


you fed my flame

by thereyoflight



Category: Star Wars: Jedi: Fallen Order (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Biting, F/M, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, Inappropriate Use of the Force, One Shot, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Psychometry, Sharing a Bed, Smut, Swearing, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-13 23:21:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28661637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thereyoflight/pseuds/thereyoflight
Summary: In the middle of the night, Trilla wakes to Cal tracing figures into her skin. Things escalate from there.
Relationships: Cal Kestis/Trilla Suduri | Second Sister
Comments: 2
Kudos: 59





	you fed my flame

**Author's Note:**

> Us Caltrillas don't get a lot of spice, so I thought I could offer what I could. I don't usually write content like this, so this is definitely a testing of new waters. Besides, these two deserve some fun in their lives. Hope you enjoy!

She wakes to his hand tracing circles into her back. It’s dark in his room on the Mantis, and when she blinks her eyes open, she can barely make out the area around her. Her back is to him, but his hand had found its way underneath her shirt. The touch is gentle, so much so that it sends shivers down her spine to be touched so delicately. The Inquisitorius was never one for tenderness, and each sliver of it that slips from Cal always makes her feel as if she’s drowning in it. 

It must be sometime in the middle of the night, the darkness and the frigid air speaking as her evidence. She doesn’t ask why he’s awake — she knows just as well as he does. Things weren’t easy after Nur. They were fortunate to discover early on that sleeping next to someone else helped. They weren’t exactly friends in the aftermath, but they weren’t enemies either. They were something else, something that lingered between. 

She inhales the crisp, cramped air of the room and shifts slightly beneath his touch. He hesitates underneath her movement, but his fingertips continue their delicate dance along her skin. She presses back and closer to him and she feels the heat radiating off his body. She thinks about them being alone in a bed together, seemingly for the first time, in the middle of the night, and the realization leaves her skin prickling. 

She’d never quite thought much of that before… 

“Cal,” she whispers, barely a breath.

He gives her a hum of acknowledgment, and his lips press into the outside of her ear. His hand lingers across her skin, and Trilla is aware of every slight caress of them. His fingertips slip beneath her breast band at her back, a silent beckoning. She pauses for a moment in surprise; she wouldn’t have taken him to be one to offer such a suggestive action. She gives a gentle nod, and his fingers unlatch it with ease, as if he’d been waiting for the opportunity. His hand falls flat against her skin, an imprint of heat, and his lips brush against her shoulder. Her eyes flutter shut. 

Her shirt ends up bunched up above her torso, but neither of them seem to mind. His lips press into the nape of her neck, and his hand leaves a trail of heat along her skin as he circles it beneath the band. Something about the way he curves his palm around her back is too precise, too intricate, and she wonders momentarily if it speaks of his gift. His fingertips graze gently along the underside of her breast and she shudders in response. The touch was foreign, new, and a strange sensation coursed through her. His hand rises to cup it in his hand, his fingertips teasing at her nipple, and she clenched her thighs together at the ache unfurling between them. 

Trilla gasps at the contact, her hand coming up over his, and he freezes. “Is this okay?” he whispers. 

“Yes,” she gasps out. “Don’t stop.”

“That’s one way to keep nightmares at bay,” he teases. 

She smiles slightly, a thread of gentleness cutting through her fevered skin, there one moment and gone the next. “You’re an idiot.”

“You love it.”

“Show me I can, and maybe I will,” she encourages, her tone bathed in provocation. 

Cal presses his head into the crook of her neck, and suddenly, the room isn’t cold anymore. He teases the head of her nipple between his fingers, and she bites back a pathetic whimper at the need that throbs in her center. Her hand slips from his to grip at his thigh, and he makes a sound against her neck as she ground back against him. She had cast away all pleasures as a Jedi and even as an Inquisitor, but now, she wasn’t sure how she managed. 

His breath is heavy on her skin and she can feel his arousal at her reaction pressing into her backside. His hand splays against her stomach, and the proximity of his touch leaves her almost gasping. She presses back into him involuntarily, and he groans into her skin. He doesn’t lose his focus and presses his hand beneath her sleeping trousers. He fumbles at first, but he takes notice of the squirm in her body and the muffled moan that escapes her. He presses into the area that had elicited such a reaction and worries her with gentle strokes that builds a flame in her abdomen. 

He makes a whimpered sound against her skin, overwhelmed. “Force, your body — it’s so loud,” he gasps. 

It must be his psychometry, she realizes, listening and amplifying every lingering sensation she feels back onto him. She feels it between them, her body leaning into his touch, the silent communication between the two. Something about the knowledge feels intimate, as if they were connected on another plane this way. 

His fingertips work around her, and it’s staggering and nearly unbearable, galaxies beyond any pleasure she had ever derived from her own touch. She shoves her hand beneath her pillow, bunching the fabric around her fingertips, and her other loops around him to tangle in his hair. His tongue traces along her neck and then his teeth until he’s biting gently into her skin. He pushes his hand further, pressing his thumb onto the bud swollen from his touch to continue his heavenly rhythm, and he pushes a finger into her. Trilla muffles her cry in the pillow beneath her, her hips bucking into his hand, and the hardness at her back moves in response. 

“Fuck, Trilla…” Cal breathes.

The sound of her name spoken so intimately, so breathlessly, by him leaves her shivering.

Cal keeps a steady pace, once, twice, before he adds another finger to join his first. Her hand bunches in his hair, her moan cut short by thinning willpower, and he gasps against her neck. He curls his fingers within her, delving them deeper, and carving out a new edge of pleasure that leaves her feeling breathless. The flame in her abdomen tightens. His hand strokes a new song past her lips, a frenzied, whispered melody of his name in succession. She presses back into him again, and his groin grinds against her in an attempt to ease the ache. He’s groaning against her skin, his breath hot.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t—” he gasps out. 

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” she whispers. 

Cal forces his focus, determined to see her through to the end. His teeth graze over her shoulder, and she trembles. His fingers hold an eager pace, and as he continues grazing that one spot within her, Trilla can barely keep her breath under control. Cal’s teeth sink into the skin at her shoulder, and she barely notices the flare of pain past the encompassing euphoria. An edge lingers ahead of her, and the flame in her abdomen rises to a breaking point underneath his touch. She curses underneath her breath and shuts her eyes tight, choking down against the unapologetic sounds that want to slip past her lips. 

“It’s okay,” he whispers. “I know.” 

The blaze in her belly pulls taunt. Her voice is desperate, messy, bled through with the rapture of everything he’s making her body come alight for. “Cal—” she starts to warn him, but the rest of her words are lost, choked down by the moan that slips past her defense as the rising crest begins its descent. 

But then Cal leans over her and takes her lips in his, his hand still moving with precision and hurtling her toward what she’s longing for. He takes her most frantic sound into his mouth like a gift as her body clenches around his hand. The tension in her body breaks, and she feels every inch of it rattling through her like a tidal wave. Her hand tugs harshly at his hair and her body tenses, but his mouth is against hers and his hand slows to ease her return. The kiss slows and she makes a desperate sound against his lips; he traces her lips delicately with his own, his tongue clumsy, yet true against her own, and she’s almost dizzy with the steady passion in it. He pulls away from her and he watches her for a moment as he strokes her through the final waves, easing the fire’s dwindle.

Her face flushes underneath his gaze, and she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth. His hair is disheveled beyond belief where she’d tugged at it frantically. He stares at her, taken by the sight of her this way, probably mesmerized that she allowed him to touch her like this. To see her in such a vulnerable position. She had never been one to be so open with others, especially not this way, but Cal always tore down her wall of resistance. And the way he’d kissed her… _touched_ her… as if she were a prized instrument he had been yearning to play… It made her run hot. 

Cal tears his eyes from her as he slips his hand away. He rises from the bed and she hears the pads of his feet on the ground as they trek across the hall. She already feels the sweat that had built on her neck and temple cooling in the cold sting of the Mantis’ air. Water runs in the fresher, and Trilla ignores the terrible prickle of mortification at what his eyes behold on his hands. Her mind whirls. 

They’d never even kissed before this night, but her lips still tingle where they’d been pressed against his. They’d barely acknowledged anything that simmered between them, and she wakes in the middle of one of the countless nights they’d shared together and it ends with his hand down her front and her gasping his name. What the hell was _that_?

Trilla knows she should get up, clean the mess he’d made of her, but she can’t bring herself to move. And even if she could, she would have to brush past him in the hallway or face him in the fresher. She’d be better off waiting for him to come back, but then he does, and he lays beside her again with a sigh and she still feels the way his breath felt against her neck. Still hears the sounds he made into her ear. And it hits her all at once that she isn’t embarrassed; she’s curious, and more than ever, she doesn’t want it to end here. 

“We… we should talk about that,” Cal says quietly, staring at the ceiling.

Trilla nods, hesitant, but hopeful. “Definitely.”

He pauses. “Another time.”

“Agreed.”

“Good.”

“Good.”

There’s a moment of silence where Trilla is sure they're going to turn on each other and let sleep claim them. Wash away whatever complicated thing they’d done until morning light arrives. Maybe they should. Maybe they should pretend nothing had ever happened. If that’s what he wants, so be it, but was it?

Her mind is racing, doubtful and confusing and _wanting_ , so quickly that she almost misses his voice when he speaks. It nearly startles her, but she catches it. 

Cal’s voice is steeped in nervousness. “You want to… try something else?”

Trilla turns her head to look at him, and she notices the bob of his neck as he swallows. He always looks at her as if he’s looking at her for the first time, an observation that leaves her heart racing. And she knows then, by the look on his face and the smile that graces hers, that they’re both well aware of one thing:

She’s going to ruin him. 


End file.
